


The Battle Hound the Marines Forgot

by NHarmonic



Series: Whitebeard Pirates [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Death of a Pet/Brother, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Stefan - Freeform, Whitebeard's Dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 13:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10536987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NHarmonic/pseuds/NHarmonic
Summary: Summary: and the brother the Whitebeards lost





	

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I like Stefan, Pop’s dog, but I don’t find many stories with him, so I thought I’d write one. PS, people of different places call their dads different things so I think I’ll be doing that too. In essence, they all mean dad
> 
> This is kinda sad, but it's happy too. Other writers usually make Stefan a war dog that likes Pops, and Marco, and tolerates the rest of the crew. I’m doing a different take.

“Pops…?”

Whitebeard lowered his choko, his eyebrow raising. “Yes, what is it Ace?” he asked.

Ace frowned in worry, looking at the right side of Whitebeard’s throne. “Stefan doesn’t look so good…” he said quietly, as if afraid the dog would hear him.

Whitebeard showed nothing as he peered over the side of his throne. It was true, Stefan hadn’t been doing so well for the past week. The war hound’s white fur had lost its luster, becoming duller and thinner; his beloved ‘mustache’ was long gone now. Stefan’s joints have nearly quit by now, requiring Marco and Thatch’s help to take his place by Whitebeard and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath, panting and coughing quietly.

If Whitebeard had to guess, it was pneumonia, coupled with a ripe, old age of twenty-six. No guesses were needed for Whitebeard to know, Stefan wouldn’t last to see tomorrow.

“Pops?” Ace asked cautiously.

Let him hope. “This weather likely doesn’t agree with him,” Whitebeard said, sipping at his choko again.

Ace pursed his lips, not really believing his father, but unwilling to argue the point. “I’ll get him some ice and towels to cool down,” he said instead and went to the galley.

Once Ace was gone, Whitebeard leaned over, ignoring the pull of his nasal cannula and IV as he looked at his best friend and closest companion. Stefan glanced at him, before looking back at the deck towards his children; still panting but seemingly uncaring. Whitebeard reached down and scratched his spine.

“They’ll be okay,” Whitebeard assured him.

Stefan allowed a pause in his panting to yip in agreement, before he coughed harshly. Stefan coughed up some mucus, which he hid with his paw just as Ace returned with some wet towels. Stefan licked his lips, watching idly as Ace lied the towels over his neck and back. Instead of leaving afterward, Ace sat down with his back to Whitebeard’s throne, gently placing Stefan’s head in his lap.

Whitebeard watched them. “How about a story my son?” he invited.

“Sure,” Ace beamed, petting Stefan’s ears.

“Alright, let’s see,” Whitebeard hummed.

**~?~?~?~**

“Night Oyaji yoi,” Marco said, leaving the room with Thatch.

Whitebeard smiled. “Good night boys,” he replied, looking at Stefan, who was lying in the crook of his arm and chest.

Stefan was heavy, and he pressed on Whitebeard’s chest, but that pain was nothing compared to what Stefan must be going through. His panting had calmed, but his cough was harsher, and fluid had begun to run from his nose and eyes. Stefan could no longer move and depended entirely on Whitebeard to position him so he could breathe.

“It's alright ole boy,” Whitebeard murmured, stroking Stefan’s ears.

Stefan’s response was to cough, a whine leaving him when he unwilling threw up phlegm on Whitebeard’s chest. Whitebeard shushed him gently, using a cloth to wipe away the sick from his chest and Stefan’s mouth. Stefan began to pant again, licking his drying lips and runny nose.

Whitebeard frowned, before reaching over to his bedside table. Silently, Whitebeard pulled out an oxygen facemask; Whitebeard would never use it, but the nurses constantly threatened him with it. Deftly, Whitebeard disconnected his nasal cannula, ignoring the slight tightness in his chest, and reconnected his oxygen to the mask. Holding Stefan to him, Whitebeard used his other hand to hold the mask to the dog’s muzzle.

Whitebeard watched him with tender eyes. “Rest easy, Stefan,” he murmured, rubbing Stefan’s side. “Good boy.”

Stefan blinked slowly, and nuzzled his man’s ribs. “Good boy.”

**~?~?~?~**

“Oyaji?” Marco knocked, letting himself in.

Marco froze at the sight. “O-Oyaji?”

Whitebeard finally looked away from his beloved dog, who had gone cold hours ago. “It's time Stefan be put to rest, Marco,” he said simply.

Marco clenched his fist, looking at his father. “Yoi,” he agreed.

**~?~**

“I- I don’t understand,” Ace whispered.

The crew had all come to the deck, sending off their fellow brother with sad, but warm, goodbyes. Everyone who wished to was walking by the pyre which Stefan lied in, each petting him, or leaving booze or treats with him. Some stopped to whisper into his ear, some of the girls couldn’t help but hug his massive form, crying into his fur.

Ace and Marco stood by Whitebeard’s throne; on his left and right side respectively. Marco looked calm and cool, emotionless, yet to the trained eye, he was leaning against his father’s leg, taking comfort from his strength and warmth. Ace was more open with his emotions, grasping Whitebeard’s pants in his grip.

“I was with him yesterday,” Ace said, “He was fine Pops; just hot.”

Whitebeard smiled gently at him, reaching over and rubbing the fire users' back. “You know he wasn’t Ace,” he said.

“But- but I didn’t- I mean,” Ace couldn’t speak.

“Stefan had a wonderful last day, with his brothers and sisters,” Whitebeard said, “And many amazing years before that.”

“Stefan would have been twenty-seven this year yoi,” Marco agreed, his eyes never leaving the white mass. “It’s a wonder he got this far.”

Marco’s eyes shot open when suddenly a large hand was on his shoulders. Marco looked at Whitebeard, who smiled at him.

“It’s alright Marco,” he said.

“Oyaji,” Marco murmured, then closed his eyes as small tears pooled.

“Marco…” Ace murmured.

Whitebeard smiled at his youngest. “Stefan was my first crewmate,” he said, “In fact, it was Stefan who found Marco for me. As well as Thatch, Izo, and Namur.”

“He found all of them?” Ace asked in surprise.

“Of course,” Whitebeard chuckled. “I like to think Stefan was our co-captain.”

“Yea,” Marco agreed quietly.

“Chichi-ue,” Mimi, one of his nurses said, her mascara running as she walked towards him.

“Yes my daughter,” Whitebeard asked, “What is it?”

“Ev-everyone’s done,” Mimi said quietly, sniffling.

“I see,” Whitebeard hummed, looking to Stefan.

Whitebeard stood, and everyone moved, giving him a wide berth as he walked towards the davits being used to hold Stefan’s pyre. Stefan looked peaceful, surrounded by his family, and adorned with booze and meat scraps; there were even some pastries that Whitebeard knew Thatch secretly gave the dog.

Whitebeard smiled. Stefan was well-loved.

“Stefan has been with this crew since the beginning,” Whitebeard announced to his children at large. He turned to face them. “He has seen everything this family has seen, he has shed blood for us, and had broken more bones than any dog should.”

He had everyone's attention.

“Stefan has given this family every ounce of loyalty and love he could give, and more,” Whitebeard turned to the pyre. He smiled “And just seeing him here; I see that it was all returned with overflowing interest.”

“You’re all saying goodbye, when in truth, you should say goodnight,” Whitebeard continued, “Stefan isn’t leaving us, he’s merely continuing our journey in a different form than before.”

Whitebeard gestured and Ace sniffed as he walked over. Ace smoothed the fur over Stefan’s neck, and stroked the jolly roger on his collar before he closed his eyes and summoned his devil fruit. There were cries and sobbing as the pyre was lit instantly, and then lowered to the sea before the alcohol could ignite.

Whitebeard watched him, never taking his eyes off. _“Good night ole boy,”_ he thought, _“Until next time.”_

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> I think I’ll do a chapter 2 with some snippets of Stefan. Like how he joined the crew, and found those crewmates mentioned, and etc. Plz dont rush me, I promise to do my best and have more posted as soon as possible.


End file.
